The Fortune-Teller
by augiesannie
Summary: "Bliss. Have you known it, Fraulein?" With apologies to Charlotte Bronte.


**THE FORTUNE-TELLER**

 **(With apologies to Charlotte Bronte)**

Nearly two weeks had passed since the night when Captain von Trapp had agreed to Baroness Schrader's plan for a grand and glorious party. As anticipation for the event began to build, the excitement was infectious. Everyone at the villa – from Frau Schmidt and Franz to the maids and gardeners, from Liesl all the way to little Gretl – talked of little else.

Responses from the invited guests poured in by mail and telephone. Baroness Schrader had been to Vienna twice for dress fittings, and Herr Detweiler was still there, hiring an orchestra. Frau Schmidt met daily with Salzburg's best caterer. At every meal, Captain von Trapp fielded a seemingly endless stream of suggestions, requests and demands from Baroness Schrader with great patience, although Maria suspected from his laconic responses that he might be having second thoughts about the whole enterprise.

Meanwhile, Maria was still flustered by the _other_ events of that night, which lingered in her thoughts as though they'd taken place two hours, rather than two weeks, ago. She was so distracted by thoughts of the frankly appraising manner in which the Captain had looked her over after the puppet show, and the way his gaze had lingered on her while his warm, musical voice filled the room, that she barely had a mind for the party.

The children, however, were full of questions.

"What are we going to wear?"

"Will we be allowed to dance?"

"Do we _have_ to dance?"

"What will there be to eat?"

"Will there be games?"

They brought these questions to the breakfast table one morning, until, during a break in the barrage, Baroness Schrader turned to Maria.

"Fraulein Maria, dear. If it is not too much trouble, I wonder if you might make a small party for the children that night. Upstairs, in the nursery. So they can have a bit of their own fun."

Before Maria had a chance to consider this suggestion, there was a firestorm of protest from the children.

"You mean we're not going to-"

"But I thought-"

"Why can't we?"

"But I want to-"

"Why-"

"But-"

Maria silenced them with nothing more than a sharp look. They knew better: all seven of them knew their governess simply would not tolerate rudeness to Baroness Schrader, who, according to the gossip below stairs, was likely to become the new Baroness von Trapp before the summer ended.

But Captain von Trapp had his own ideas.

"Oh, I don't know, Elsa," he said mildly. "They ought to have a chance to meet our guests. They've sorted themselves out beautifully this summer, and it's been such a long time since-" The merest flicker of some deep emotion crossed his face, only to be replaced by a devious grin. "I'm sure we can count on them to behave like ladies and gentlemen, can't we, Fraulein Maria?"

All eyes turned expectantly toward Maria – a most uncomfortable position, to be caught between Baroness Schrader's icy glare, seven children's pleading eyes and the Captain's blue –

"Yes, sir," she said quietly.

"I'll tell you what, Elsa," Captain von Trapp broke the awkward silence, "You've got company coming tonight, haven't you?"

Baroness Schrader stirred a heaping spoonful of sugar into her tea in an agitated manner.

"Yes, just a few neighbors, Georg, why?"

"Why don't we ask the older ones to join us tonight? The Ebersoles were fond of them back when – ehrm," he cleared his throat, "and it will be a dry run of sorts for your party. If they do well tonight, then I'm sure it will be safe to assume that their party manners will rub off on the younger ones. Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, what do you say?"

The Captain's plan was deemed acceptable, but as they day wore on, it became apparent that Friedrich was coming down with a cold. So it was that, after tucking the little girls and their oldest brother into their beds, and leaving Brigitta and Kurt to read quietly in the nursery, Maria helped Liesl and Louisa into their best dresses, oversaw the placement of hair ribbons and sashes, and shepherded them downstairs to the parlor.

The gathering consisted of Baron and Baroness Ebersole, Baroness Schrader and the Captain, and a younger couple who were introduced as the Apfels. Herr Detweiler, Maria remembered, was still in Vienna. After being introduced to the Captain's guests, and enjoying a little surge of pride at the girls' manners, Maria turned to leave.

"Oh, no you don't," Captain von Trapp stopped her. "You're staying here, to keep an eye on your charges."

"But what about Friedrich?" Maria objected.

"Friedrich can ring for help if he needs it. I need you here," he insisted with a tight-lipped smile.

It was a completely unreasonable demand, Maria thought, since the girls had settled beautifully into the company with no need for supervision. But the Captain only stared at her mulishly until, with a sigh, she retired to the window seat. Ever since the evening of the puppet show, she thought, it was like a wall had gone up between them. Up until then, they had been getting along splendidly, conferring daily about the children's lessons and other matters, but lately, he seemed to be keeping a wary distance from her.

Tucked into the window seat, Maria was quite unaffected by the festive mood that filled the parlor. Baron Ebersole and Herr Apfel played cards, ribbing each other amiably at every turn. Frau Apfel was deep in friendly conversation with Liesl and Louisa. Baroness Ebersole chatted cheerfully with Baroness Schrader, who never took her arm from the Captain's, while he watched her with an air of tolerant amusement.

Maria's brooding thoughts were interrupted when Franz appeared, silver tray in hand.

"There's a message for you, Captain. I'm told it is quite urgent."

The Captain tore open the envelope and, almost immediately, his relaxed expression tightened into a scowl.

"Bad news, Georg?" asked Baroness Schrader.

He shook his head.

"Not really. Just a bit of bad timing. That horse I've been trying to buy – you know the one, Elsa. The agent is in town, but only for the evening. If I wait until morning, he'll be gone, and the gelding along with it. He insists I come take a look at the animal now, but of course, that's not possible, not tonight."

"Why don't you go on ahead, Georg." said Baron Ebersole. "You can count on me to look after this roomful of lovely ladies," he made a courtly little bow in Liesl's direction.

The Captain hesitated.

"The thing of it is – Max had arranged a special entertainment for all of you. Even the children. An act he's considering."

"For the festival?" Herr Apfel inquired.

"No, this act is meant for a house party. Like this one. Max has already seen her, but he wanted our opinions. She ought to be here within the hour, and I hate to miss it."

"I'm sure you're devastated at the prospect," Baroness Schrader said dryly. "Go on ahead to your horse, darling. At least Max has arranged to keep us entertained until you return."

"I couldn't possibly," the Captain began, but then, laughing, he added, "but if you insist, Elsa, I'll try to be back within an hour or two."

After the Captain left on his errand, the girls sat quietly in a corner, paging through a magazine, and the adults fell into conversation about the coming season in Vienna, talking of plays, concerts, balls and the opera.

Maria kept her seat by the window, looking out at the lake. It was a beautiful night, with the silver moon glowing so brightly she could almost make out the shapes of the mountains in the distance. Moonlight danced on the surface of the water, and a carpet of stars twinkled above. Her thoughts wandered back to Nonnberg Abbey, where at this hour, the sisters were deep in the fifth prayer service of the day.

From the foyer, there was the sound of the doorbell, and Franz reappeared.

"Begging your pardon," he said, looking around uneasily as though he wasn't quite sure who was in charge in the Captain's absence. "There's a visitor. A beggar of some sort," he sniffed. "I tried to send her away, but she claims to have been sent by Herr Detweiler."

"Ah! Max's entertainment, no doubt!" the Baroness said cheerfully, rising to her feet. "Show her in!"

Franz hesitated.

"She asked to be shown to the library, Baroness. And that I give you this," he extended a torn scrap of paper to Baron Ebersole, having apparently decided that the eldest male in the room was entitled to command of the situation.

Baron Ebersole's eyebrows lifted as he studied the note. "She's a fortuneteller," he added. "Perhaps I'll go in first to see her, just to make sure it's all right."

"Ehrm," Franz interrupted. "Begging your pardon, Baron, sir. She was very insistent that she is only here for the ladies."

The Baron shrugged. "Pity. I could use a look into the future, things in Austria being what they are. Very well, then, Franz, thank you. Now. Who wants to go first?"

"I will!" Louisa sprang from her seat.

"Oh, Louisa, I don't know," Maria began. Fortune telling sounded vaguely disreputable. But Herr Detweiler had arranged this entertainment, and with the Captain's agreement. So certainly it would be suitable.

"What if the two of us went together?" Liesl suggested, and Maria reluctantly nodded her assent.

Ten minutes passed before the two girls appeared back in the parlor, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, their reports punctuated by hysterical giggles and little shrieks.

"She knew everything about us! She knew Mama's favorite lullabies -"

"She warned me about the boys in the neighborhood-"

"She knew about the frogs in Fraulein Hildegard's bed!"

"She knew that I copied my French essay from a book in Father's library -"

The girls broke off abruptly, sending guilty looks in Maria's direction, but she only laughed.

"Perhaps I ought to encourage the fortuneteller to report directly to me!"

"You are going to go visit with her yourself, aren't you, Fraulein?" Liesl asked.

Maria was suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on her: Baroness Schrader, the Ebersoles, and the Apfels. Once again, she wished she'd been allowed to stay upstairs with the younger children.

"Oh, no, girls," she murmured, twisting her fingers in her lap. "This entertainment is meant for your father's guests."

Baroness Ebersole sent a kindly smile her way, and rose to her feet. "My turn, then." When she returned ten minutes later, her face was wreathed with smiles. "There is definitely something about that old lady! She knew things about me— about my mother's plum torte, and how I can't keep a cook, and the incident with the apple brandy last Christmas-"

"Oh, come now, dearest," Baron Ebersole protested. "Everyone knows about that."

"She knew things about you, too, dearest. About your father and that opera singer. And your tattoo-"

From her corner, Maria cleared her throat gently and inclined her head toward the girls. Fortunately, Frau Apfel distracted everyone with her exit from the parlor. Ten minutes later, she returned, glowing with joy, and immediately began a whispered conversation with her husband in a far corner of the room.

Now it was Baroness Schrader who swept to the center of the room, her elegant silk skirt swishing around her. "I suppose it's my turn," she announced, before sailing from the room.

Baroness Schrader's visit to the library was much shorter than the others'. No more than five minutes had passed before she returned to the parlor, without a hint of the giddy excitement the others had worn. The room grew silent, all eyes on her with great curiosity, but she only walked stiffly to her customary perch on a love seat and lit a cigarette. Then she picked up a book and stared at it darkly, though she didn't turn the pages.

"Now, then," Baron Ebersole said, "We'll have to report back to Herr Detweiler on our mystery guest. What ought we to tell him – what is it now, Franz?"

"Excuse me, sir," Franz began, "but the _guest,_ she says-"

"You can tell her to go," Baron Ebersole said, reaching into his pocket to extract a crisp bill. "Give her this for her trouble."

"She says," a sheen of sweat lined Franz's upper lip. Maria didn't think she'd ever seen him so rattled before. "She says her work her is not done yet. That there's another lady in the house, and she won't leave until she's seen all the ladies." He sent a chilly look in Maria's direction. "I tried to get her to leave, but she refused, and _most_ unpleasantly, too."

Once again, all heads turned toward Maria. What was it about these people that made her feel so awkward and unsure of herself? She reminded herself that she'd once thought a Captain with seven children would be fearsome, and now the children couldn't be dearer to her, and as for the Captain-

"All right," she sighed, getting to her feet. It seemed the quickest way to get everyone's eyes off of her. Cheered on by Liesl and Louisa, she trudged out of the parlor and across the foyer. She wasn't even sure fortune telling was permitted to postulants. Wasn't it blasphemous, somehow? Certainly Maria didn't believe in that sort of thing. No, she had her faith in God, pure and true, to guide her heart.

When the library door closed behind her, she had to stand still while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only light in the room came from the fireplace, where the flames had been banked to a dull glow. Just next to the fire, a massive old crone sat hunched in the Captain's big leather armchair, muttering wordlessly to herself. How strange it seemed for someone else to be sitting there!

Suddenly, the elderly woman looked up. "Come on, now," she croaked in a harsh whisper, gesturing to a straight back chair that sat across from her. "I won't bite you," she promised with a disturbing cackle, as though she had just told a joke.

Maria slid closer to the fireplace and perched on the edge of the chair.

The fortune teller wore a faded red cloak and a broad brimmed bonnet that hid her face almost entirely. A few stray silver curls peeked from some kind of band that wrapped around her neck and face, in a way that was disturbingly reminiscent of the Sisters' wimples.

"Go ahead, ask me anything you like. You want your fortune told?"

"I don't care," Maria said. There was something disturbing about this situation, but she lifted her chin. "You can if you want to, but I should warn you – I don't hold with such things."

"Ha!" said the old crone. "I knew you were an impudent girl from the moment you crossed the threshold. Aren't you even a little scared of me? Why don't you tremble?"

"I'm not cold."

"Why don't you turn pale?"

"I'm not sick."

"Why don't you want your fortune told?"

"I'm not silly."

The old woman snorted and took a long draw on her cigar. Gleaming eyes looked out from beneath the bonnet's rim, as she pronounced, "Oh, but you _are_ cold. _And_ sick. _And_ silly."

"I beg your pardon?" Maria said uneasily. The experience was somehow much more personal than she'd imagined it, as though the fortuneteller pretended to see into her soul. Well, let the crone look then. Her heart and mind were open to God and anyone else who wanted to look.

"You are cold because you are alone; there is no contact to strike the flame in you that only wants lighting. You are sick because the best and highest and sweetest feelings known to man keep away from you. And you are silly, Fraulein, because you will not let those feelings approach, or go out to meet them."

"I am _not_ alone," Maria snapped, thinking first of the children, and only then of the Abbey. "I am promised to God."

"You are?"

"Well, not quite. Almost. It doesn't matter. The point is that I have found something good, something fine and noble and safe-"

"You think you have found _it_ ," the old woman interrupted, "but you have not. _It_ is tantalizingly near if you would let yourself look. The ingredients are all there, but chance laid them somewhat apart; let them be brought together and bliss results." She threw her cigar into the fire, where it flared, a momentary flaming explosion of heat, light and sound that quickly subsided.

 _Bliss_.

"Have you known it, Fraulein?" the harsh whisper turned gentle. "Bliss?"

 _Bliss_. The word called to mind the mountains, time spent with her guitar, the remembered warmth of her mother's embrace, the soft weight of Gretl sleeping on her shoulder. And something else, a kind of dizziness that came to her only in her dreams. Maria's fingers gripped the edge of the hard wooden chair. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't like riddles."

"Show me your palm, then."

"And cross it with silver, no doubt." Maria rolled her eyes. The fortuneteller was just a huckster, and she'd no doubt be gone as soon as she'd gotten her reward. "Here you go," she said, digging a coin from her pocket.

The old woman plucked the coin from her palm and tucked it away with one hand, while the other – covered in tattered black gloves – held onto Maria's wrist with surprising strength. Bending to pore over Maria's hand, she shook her head.

"Ah, but I despair. I can make no sense of it. Your heart is very busy with thoughts you have no business feeling, some secret hope that buoys you up."

The Abbey, of course, Maria thought hopefully.

"I told you so. I am promised to God."

"No," the old crone gave a low, gravelly chuckle. "That isn't it."

Then, suddenly, as though she'd lost interest in fortunetelling entirely, she dropped Maria's hand and grunted, "Tell me. That scene out there. The von Trapp family, their guests. You have no interest in it?"

"Well," Maria pondered, relieved and a little disappointed to have left the matter of her heart behind. "The ladies are beautiful."

"And the men?"

"They are respectable and kind to me."

"And the Captain?"

"He is not at home. He had an errand that took him away."

"But surely you must have formed an opinion of him."

"It doesn't matter," Maria said carefully, "it doesn't matter what I think of him. You ought to have asked Baroness Schrader about that."

"Ha! And what is the Baroness to Captain von Trapp?"

"He is comfortable in her presence. As though he is grateful for her."

" _Grateful_? You have analyzed it, then, and you do not see love there?"

Fumbling to redirect the dangerous conversation, Maria replied, "I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions."

The fortuneteller snorted with laughter.

"Go ahead and ask then."

Maria squeezed her eyes closed and steeled her heart.

"Is he going to marry her?"

The answer came with disappointing certitude.

"Yes, and shortly. He must love such a beautiful, witty, charming accomplished lady, and she probably loves him."

Maria tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

"But what of _my_ fortune? It was my coin, after all."

The old woman lifted Maria's hand for a moment, even giving it a gentle squeeze, but then she pushed it away impatiently.

"Bah," she rasped. "Your palm shows me nothing. Let me see your face. Stand over here."

Maria rose to her feet and edged closer to the firelight. The whole enterprise was foolish, she knew, and yet she felt powerless to resist.

Still ensconced in the Captain's chair, the fortuneteller looked up at Maria.

"Your future is very much in doubt because, you, Fraulein – what did you say your name was?"

"Maria."

The old woman began to speak, rapidly, in a low murmur.

"Fraulein Maria, then. You, my dear, are a mass of contradictions. Your eyes are full of feeling, by turns full of joy and melancholy, but they turn from me and will not allow scrutiny, instead trying to deny by a mocking glance the truth of my words. Your mouth – that _mouth!_ – it clearly delights in laughter, and it speaks wisdom, but it is silent on what is in the heart. That mouth was never intended to be compressed in the silence of solitude, it should speak much, and smile often, and it should be thoroughly k-"

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Maria looked down, alarmed, but after a moment, the old woman regained her composure and went on,

"Your face, Fraulein, speaks of self-respect, a capable mind, and an inward treasure. Within your mind there is a fierce struggle, where reason is trying to hold the reins so the feelings cannot burn you, so that furious passions do not range out of control."

It was all too much for Maria. The peculiar talk, and the woman's strange voice and manner, made it seem like a dream, as though this odd creature knew the workings of her heart.

Without warning, an idle impression flickered to life in Maria's mind, the fantastic notion that, perhaps- but when she leaned forward to take a closer look, the old woman lifted herself heavily to her feet and went to stand in a distant corner, one where the firelight barely reached.

"Do you think this is easy for me, Fraulein?" the elderly crone grumbled. "I could give you the fortune you _think_ you want, but I will not, because I know you too well. You are a headache, an angel, a wave on the sand, a moon beam, so no, I will not leave you to God's mercy. _No_. But alas, I also cannot give you the fortune I know you _deserve_. It is torture, you know, to have to withhold from you the cup of bliss. But I want to earn your gratitude without requiring of you any feelings of remorse or sacrifice. No, dear Fraulein, chance has meted you out fortune, but it depends on _you_ to stretch out your hand and take it."

" _Stop_!"

Maria barely recognized the sound of the cry torn from her own lips.

" _Stop_! I beg of you! You're wrong about me, all wrong. You know nothing of me! You have _no_ idea about me."

From the dark corner came a low curse. "So there will be no harvest of smiles and sweet words for me then? Not that I deserve it, not the way I have gone on like a raving fool."

Maria flinched at that harsh whisper, frightening in its certitude, but another part of her wanted to approach the corner, to dig for the secret she was beginning to suspect lay underneath bonnet, cape and gloves.

But then came the order.

"You are dismissed, Fraulein."

"But I am not finished yet!"

A low, oddly tender whisper. "Oh yes, you are, my l- I mean, my dear Fraulein. Now. Go."

"But-"

"Go!" the old woman rasped. "Have you no sense at all? _Go_!"

Maria fled, with the cackling laughter of the fortuneteller echoing behind her.

She paused in the brightly-lit foyer, rubbing at her eyes while she tried to sort out what had just happened and what it might mean, but Franz was standing about with his typical disapproving air, so she had no choice but to rejoin the gathering in the parlor. Liesl had the guitar out now, and she and Louisa were singing a gentle duet while the others looked on. Relieved that no one would question her about her encounter with the fortuneteller, Maria slipped back into her seat by the window and closed her eyes, letting Louisa's exceptional soprano soothe her.

"Lovely, lovely!"

Herr Detweiler stood in the doorway, grinning as he handed his hat to Franz. "Don't let me stop you, girls! With any luck, your father will relent and I'll have you in the festival after all!"

With delighted cries, the girls ran to embrace their Uncle Max.

"Max, darling, you weren't expected back until tomorrow!" Baroness Schrader said, "But what on earth were you thinking? A disgusting old crone like that at one of our house parties? How could you?"

Baron Ebersole chimed in.

"You'd be better off with the girls' performance than that fortune teller, sir!"

"Old crone? Fortune teller?" Herr Detweiler looked confused, but in the next moment, the front door opened and closed again, and there was Captain von Trapp, heartily clapping an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Max! We didn't expect you back from Vienna tonight! Come into the library and have a drink!" the Captain said. He was so unusually animated that, if Maria hadn't known better, she'd have thought he'd spent the evening at a tavern.

"Georg," Baroness Schrader said reproachfully, "we have guests. Max can have a drink in here just as well."

"No, no," the Captain said, steering Herr Detweiler rather firmly from the room. "I've got a bit of business to conduct with my charming sponge here, if you'll excuse us," and then the pair vanished into the foyer.

Glancing at the clock over the fireplace, Maria motioned to the girls. "It's time for us to go upstairs," she said firmly. Surely the Captain would agree that she'd fulfilled her responsibilities for the evening. She watched the girls say a polite farewell to the company and then followed them upstairs, and all the time, her mind was racing.

 **OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Maria lay awake for half the night, staring into the darkness. She didn't know _what_ to believe. Or maybe she _did_ know, but she didn't want to believe it.

" _You are cold because you are alone; there is no contact to strike the flame in you that only wants lighting. You are sick because the best and highest and sweetest feelings known to man keep away from you. And you are silly, Fraulein, because you will not let those feelings approach, or go out to meet them…It is tantalizingly near if you would let yourself look. The ingredients are all there, but chance laid them somewhat apart; let them be brought together and bliss results."_

Bliss.

 _Have you known it, Fraulein?_

 **OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

 **As you may have figured out, this scene is inspired by (okay, okay, it borrows heavily from) a scene in _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bronte, with just a few amendments to make work more smoothly. My copy of this book was printed in 1902 and belonged to my great-grandmother! TSOM and _Jane Eyre_ lie nestled together in my heart, I think because it was during the summer that I was treated for breast cancer that I was first writing TSOM fanfiction AND watched every film version of _Jane Eyre_ available. Don't own, all for love. Please leave me a review!**


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